


life lessons

by ktenologious



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Child Abuse, Grooming, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Pedophilia, Shotacon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktenologious/pseuds/ktenologious
Summary: Rodrigue is going to hell.
Relationships: Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	life lessons

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** It might be consensual but Sylvain is very much a child in here so nop. Implied Glennvain, and mob/sylvain, and just generally Sylvain having a terrible time. His age is up to you, but he is small enough to be picked up. This is one of my many Rodrivain ficlets that become 'Rodrigue and Sylvain are married' in the future, so yeah.

Rodrigue is going to hell. He will burn in the lowest layer and still need to go lower, because what he is currently doing is just so vile he does not understand why he is doing it. Being drunk does not excuse it, nor do the small hands currently tugging at his hair begging him for _more_.

He swallows. He is going to hell already so, might as well go all the way, right? What is stopping him, morality? What is that anymore. _Shit_ , Lambert it going to kill him. Taiva is going to kill him too, and then dance on his corpse. Glenn and Felix will have to grow up without parents, maybe he should write a will.

He looks down at the boy — _child_ , his mind supplies, _you are fucking a child,_ but he quickly gets rid of the damning words before he can think too much about them—, spread naked under him as he is, still as beautiful and ethereal as he was five seconds ago, and wonders. Maybe he is caught in some spell. Maybe this is not real. Maybe life stopped the moment Sylvain froze in his hands and turned wide-eyed at him, _warm and soft_ and so very tempting.

“Aren’t you spending too much time in here?” He had asked, looking down at the boy hiding under his desk, pulling him on his chair so he could share his cookies. He had a tower of paperwork to get through, so he couldn’t entertain his little guest, but surely he knows how to keep himself busy?

Sylvain just smiled, eyes empty. “I am hiding from a ghost,” he replied, and then went back to his book. There were bandages peeking under his clothes and bruises at the side of his lips, and Rodrigue thought of asking what kind of game causes that. Glenn had been spending a lot of time with him, lately.

He made it through the paperwork after some time, and Sylvain slept at his side. Looking down at him, he couldn’t help the small spark of _something_ light up inside of him, but he shook himself out of it quickly enough. He refused to be like other people, those people who chased after Gautier for their exotic looks and single-minded focus, but he did have to admit that Sylvain had all of his parents’ good traits and none of the negatives, unless you counted the emotional range of a tree as a negative trait. Still, _child_.

He had thought that was the end of it, but Sylvain kept showing up at his office, at various times, hiding from his ghost. Eventually he started helping, if only because he liked to keep things neat and in order. And also eventually, Rodrigue just… became too used to his presence. Pulling him on his lap to get to something else, or just because he was _warm_ , became too casual gestures.

(Sylvain looked scared, at times, but he didn’t stop his visits.)

And then… Rodrigue had drunk a bit too much, and Sylvain was on his lap, and Sylvain kept stealing sips of his glass while giving him _that_ look, and Rodrigue just gave in. He was hard, and holding the boy’s hips to rock against him wasn’t difficult when Sylvain was already so close, and when he had looked at Rodrigue, flushed and eyes wide and a tiny smile in his lips-

“Do you want me to stay?” The whisper brought Rodrigue back to his senses, but then Sylvain’s hands were on his face and there were soft lips on his face and a small knee on his crotch and, his sanity had faded along with all the protests screaming in his head.

And here he is, Sylvain naked under him on his couch, writhing and moaning as Rodrigue fingers him, begging for more, more, _please—_ His body is covered in bandages and fading bruises, old scars that make Rodrigue see red and _bites_ in unmistakable places (he wonders who else has fallen for this trap and when are the jaws of the beast closing in on him, when is the predator using Sylvain as live bait for weak men coming for him). If he remembers, he should look this up, because the signs of abuse are obvious now and if he has to turn himself in with other unknown people for Sylvain’s safety then _so be it._

He kisses the leg besides his head, squeezes the boy’s thighs tighter around his cock and thrusts between them in time with curling his fingers inside Sylvain. There is a loud cry and tiny hands are grasping at Rodrigue’s sides, bringing him impossibly close, and all he wants to do is to cover this young, beautiful child with his own body and hide him deep within himself.

“Si— Sir Fral—“ Small toes curl against his shoulder as the boy’s back arches in a perfect bow, tears spilling from his eyes and onto the plush pillow under him where he tries to hide his face to keep himself quiet. It is a well trained motion, the implications terrible just as Rodrigue himself is, but the way Sylvain contorts under him is more than enough to force his body to move faster, cock roughly stroking the child’s own.

He comes with a final thrust, harder than he has ever before, in tandem with scissoring his four fingers inside Sylvain until he is spread as wide as possible; the redhead freezes for a second, maybe, _hopefully_ unused to such a large breach to his hole, but then he moans and spills on his own chest. 

Rodrigue takes a few breaths to admire his handiwork. Sylvain is beautiful, as he has always been, but there is something about how he looks so at peace right after all his struggling and crying that is simplu mesmerizing. His eyes are cloudy with pleasure, neck and shoulders covered in bites and bruises —some Rodrigue left himself, some that were there before—, cum glistening on his chest and stomach; his small hands, the hands of a child, spread the cooling substance across his nipples, fingers rubbing at them so they will be perfectly coated in white. Then, in an act that makes Rodrigue shudder and want to take him again, Sylvain brings his fingers up to his mouth and brushes them on his plump lips, giving them a glossy look that could be pretty any other time, but now is simply lewd.

His voice is still shaky and broken when he speaks: 

“Not inside, Sir?” He asks with such confusion, as if not quite knowing what to do, and maybe it is _for the best_ than it is Rodrigue and not some other man. He is very weak, though, and the idea of cleaning his claim off Sylvain makes him angry. Instead, he brings the boy in his arms as he sits back, placing him on his lap with a hand on his thigh.

“Maybe another time.” There shouldn’t _be_ another time, but Rodrigue has no doubt he will fall for the temptation again, especially when Sylvain wraps his thin arms around Rodrigue’s neck and rests his head on his shoulder with a sigh. _Beautiful_. “Are you… okay, Sylvain?”

“Hm,” the boy hums in assent, and Rodrigue lifts his chin so he can kiss his lips. It is soft, tender and _very wrong_. He swallows a whimper, coaxes an inexperienced tongue to dance with his own, his arm tightening slightly around Sylvain’s waist. They part, and Sylvain looks at him with a sleepy smile. “Sir Rodrigue is good to me. Thank you.”

Good, compared to who? Who does Rodrigue need to get rid of, to be the only one in Sylvain’s mind? How can he think of anyone else, now that he has had Sylvain? How can he convince either Irene or Taiva to give Sylvain to _him_?

So many questions. So few answers.

For now, he bundles a sleeping Sylvain up with his cape, and brings him and his unfinished paperwork to his quarters. He can think about how much he has _fucked up_ later, after he gets some sleep.

Sylvain cuddles, he soon realizes, and doing his paperwork becomes really hard when all he wants to do is explore more of the child’s body.

**Author's Note:**

> Please give me more rodrivain, thanks. Gautier OC names come from my lighter half. Come yell at me @ ktenologious in twitter


End file.
